


Your Hurt Is In My Heart

by bobbersbme



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cemetery, Child Abuse, Flowers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Pen Pals, Protective, Talking To Dead People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29331051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbersbme/pseuds/bobbersbme
Summary: They might have never spoken a word to each other, but his bond with Isaac is one of the most important things in Brett's life. Seeing Isaac in pain is bound to change everything.
Relationships: Isaac Lahey/Brett Talbot
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	Your Hurt Is In My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This little thing was written on my phone while sitting at a doctors office forever today. Apologies for any mistakes, more than happy to fix if you comment on em!

Brett had been visiting the cemetery for years. He’d been eight when his parents died, and while he knew the grief counsellor that his foster mother had taken him to had probably meant he should talk about his feelings with someone alive, well, he hadn’t. Instead, on days when everything felt too much, he’d come here, sitting by his parent’s graves, and he’d talk to them.

Sure, there were special occasions, like their birthdays, or the anniversary of the accident, those days Lori and he would bring flowers along with their foster mother, but those days were different.

The days when he came alone, those were important to him, because, to him, his parents were still a part of his life. He could tell them anything and not worry about being a burden to them like he felt sometimes with his foster mother. Satomi was amazing, but she already did so much for them, he didn’t want to be more of a burden. Besides, he’d rather her look after Lori, he was the big brother, he could take care of himself. It was his job, along with helping with Lori.

He’d even learned how to play lacrosse to help her get into a better school after he found out about some assholes bullying her. Sure, he could have confronted those assholes and beaten the crap out of them instead, but this way was better. Satomi insisted that violence wasn’t something you should ever be involved in with ANY other choice. Brett made the choice, and now Lori didn’t have to deal with those bullies. It also gave him more fun stories to tell their parents, about how her art was going, about how many goals he scored in the latest game they won.

Brett had been thirteen when he noticed the other boy at the cemetery. He was skinny, too skinny as far as Brett could tell, and always alone. At first, he thought that like him, he was visiting someone’s grave, but every time he came, he was at a different place. It was when he saw him sweeping away dead leaves and cleaning a gravestone that he wondered if he worked there. Why would someone his age work at a cemetery?

They didn’t talk, but, they did look to each other. It was simple nods of the heads at first, and then soon enough small smiles when Brett arrived, making his way to his parents' grave. Little moments, little gestures and expressions, were all that was exchanged between then for almost two years.

A week after he was telling his parents about how nervous he was about the championship game coming up next month, Brett found a bouquet of flowers, the same as the ones Lori and he usually bought for them, with a little handwritten card, _Good Luck._.

Who… heard a shuffle to the side of him and looking over, and there was the other boy moving quickly away with his leaf rake in hand, and a bright flush rising to his cheeks. Brett couldn’t help the little smile on his lips as he looked down to the card. Maybe anyone else and he’d be angry that someone had been listening to him talking to his parents, but that boy, he didn’t mind. 

The next time he came by the cemetery, was the day after the game, they’d won, and he was thrilled! Still, this time he’d come to the cemetery for more than just to talk to his parents, to tell them about the game. No, he was looking for the boy, there was a sinking feeling inside when he didn’t see him anywhere, disappointed that he wasn’t going to get a chance to give him what he’d brought. As he left though, after spilling his happiness with his parents, on the edge of his parent’s headstone, he set the _‘Thank You’_ note on the stone, with the tiny little statuette of a lacrosse player on top of it. He’d made it himself, in his school colours, he wanted to give the other boy something, and he didn’t know what he liked otherwise.

The next week, his note and the figure was gone, and in their place was a small rock holding down an envelope. This time, the scrawled note was more than just two words, it was a short letter, an introduction, signed with the other boy's name, Isaac.

After that, Brett made it a habit to bring a notepad with him, so he could scrawl out a reply to Isaac’s notes while he was still here, and not have to wait to go home.

Some days he saw Isaac in person, others, missing him, but the notes came and went, and despite all the words that found their way between them on those pages, they still didn’t speak aloud. There were both tears shed, and laughter shared, sometimes Brett even glanced back to see Isaac go over and collect his note before he even passed the fence at the boundary properly. Brett did feel a little guilty, Isaac had slowly grown to be his reason for his cemetery visits, telling him in those letters all the kinds of things he came to tell his parents over the years.

This boy, Isaac, he’d go through his day writing down all kinds of things he wanted to tell Isaac, little things, big things. This boy, whom he didn’t even know what his voice sounded like, they had formed a friendship greater than he would say he had with anyone but his sister, and his foster mother. Not even his teammates who he saw every day and relied-on on the field could compare.

Isaac was his best friend, and he cared about him only comparable to family, so the day he arrived at the cemetery to not only find no letter under the rock, but Isaac nowhere to be seen by the grave, it left a heavy feeling in his gut. His notepad with his half-finished letter in hand, Brett glanced towards the small building at the far side of the cemetery, where he knew a lot of the gear that Isaac used here was kept. Taking a chance, he made his way across the field, weaving around the different graves, respecting those that were interned there enough that he wasn’t just going to walk right over them. Rude.

Walking around the side of the small building, he caught sight of the messy blonde curls disappearing around the back and he walked faster, his long legs helping him catch up.

“Isaac.”

Reaching to grab him before he moved to disappear again. Isaac looked a lot like he had when he’d first seen the boy years ago, at sixteen they were both taller, Brett more muscular, but Isaac still looked like he was a few meals short of healthy and Brett never liked thinking about that. How much he ate was not what came to mind as Isaac finally turned to look to him now.

“Brett.”

Another time he might marvel at finally hearing Isaac speak, but the nervous, soft, scared sound of his voice clenched around his heart. If that was a clench, the sight of the other boy’s face might as well have torn it out of his chest. His hand not holding Isaac’s arm, reached up to grasp carefully at his chin along his jaw. Assessing the damage, the deep vicious bruise that spanned from under one of those gorgeous blue eyes and over one of his cheekbones with a split that was behind held together by butterfly bandages. His thumb tentatively brushing over the scabbed cut of Isaac’s lower lip earning the slightest hiss from the other boy.

Bright blue eyes that looked slightly glazed with tears and trepidation met the now steely cold silver blue, Brett’s voice, taking on a tone he next to never used. Only once when he had spoken to Lori’s new boyfriend the other month. He sounded quiet, tense, and deadly with the rage that he was barely able to hold in,

“Who did this to you?”

It was almost as if those words opened a floodgate from Isaac as he moved to grab at Brett, his head falling with a silent sob, tucking his face into his friend’s neck as Brett cradled the trembling boy to him.

Whoever it was, was not going to get away with this.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are love! Cookie for every one left!
> 
> You can find me here if you wanna chat. If you have prompts/ideas for these guys, send me them there, never know what inspiration might strike!


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